


February chill

by fish_wifey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aobajousai era, Bittersweet, Confrontations, Kitagawa Daiichi era, Love Confessions, Love Notes, M/M, Secret Admirer, Secret Crush, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6246646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since his third year at Kitagawa Daiichi, Iwaizumi receives chocolates and a love note from his secret admirer. Sometimes he thinks its a prank, sometimes he wished he'd knew who was so secretly in love with him.</p><p>Sometimes he doesn't like the bittersweet taste of chocolate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	February chill

**Author's Note:**

> (( ゜◇゜) hello Sofia! so I don't now which of the three fics you'd read first but I posted them in order of creation. HAH.
> 
> It is my first time writing these adorable cuties and although I had a clear image in my head including White day, it totally got away from me and focuses on V-day mostly :'D (the same also happened in 'Promises' ahahahaa. hah) PLEASE ENJOY NONETHELESS!!! I love iwakage to death, they're SO CUTE.
> 
> To whoever reads this: make sure you have chocolates, coffee, and teas at the ready.

Hajime’s entrance into the school has a stereo sound of giggling, embarrassing sounds left, right and center. Today, for some reason he doesn’t know, everyone’s giddy. Girls group together more than usual, while boys stand apart further away, shying away, looking over to where the girls are. 

It’s not until he’s inside of Kitagawa Daiichi, where the hubbub at the shoe lockers is the loudest and most irritating, that he understands where it all comes from. He should have known and prepared himself better, because Oikawa would manage to be most annoying brat today of all days. Sighing, Hajime makes his way to get his indoor school shoes out and on his feet, putting his white sneakers away for later. He doesn’t think much of Valentine’s day, he prefers salty snacks over sweets, and on top of the Oikawa problem (which is horrendous in and of its own), the stuttering confessions and ‘this way, that way’ behaviour just piss him off.

If you like someone, you’d better tell them straight up. No going around or waiting for a special date.

That’s why it comes as a surprise when a classmate of Hajime’s points inside his shoe locker, just after Hajime closed it.

“Didn’t you see?” Futa says, giving Hajime a blank look. Turning around and opening the small wooden doorway, Hajime’s astonishment runs down from his head to his toes when he sees a tiny package. It’s his third year at Kita-ichi, and this is the first time he has received anything on this particular day. Taking the box out, his friend starts to laugh, holding his stomach.

“Oh _wow_. It must be a prank, right? Look at that silly wrapping!” Futa guffaws, holding himself upright with a hand on Hajime’s shoulder. The latter nudges him off, then undoes the newspaper wrappings. He wonders who the hell would try to make fun of him like this, and if they’re somewhere near for him to talk down to. Undoing the wrap reveals a small batch of chocolate chip cookies and a handwritten note. According to the lines, it must have been a page ripped from one of the everyday Campus notebooks. Flipping it open with one hand, Hajime starts to read.

**To Iwaizumi-san,  
** **Hello.  
** **And I am sorry. These were the only ones that didn’t burn black when I tried making cookies. They probably don’t taste good. In fact I am sure you don’t like sweet chocolate, but it’s tradition. I don’t get it, either. It’s more than likely that I won’t be able to confess to you face to face, which I am sure you’d prefer, but it’s also for the better, I guess. You seem like the type of man who wouldn’t like that kind of thing.  
**I hope the cookies are somewhat edible, and that you will have a good match on Sunday. I am rooting for you, always.****

There was nothing else. No final greetings, no name, not even an ‘anonymous’ signature. Hajime turns the note around, his head a mess, while trying to figure out where he’d seen that writing before. It seems familiar; the sharp downwards lines, hiragana that didn’t look like half-assed squiggly lines once you got your own sort of handwriting. There are no mistakes or scratched out words, meaning that the writer wasn’t one to make mistakes, or had written this note a few times to get it right. Something was off, however, and Hajime could only imagine whoever wrote this had been super nervous. Trying to decipher it leads him absolutely nowhere at all.

Futa leans his arm once more over Hajime’s shoulder, sneaking a glance. “And, what does it say?”

“It says ‘mind your own business’.” It comes out gruffer than usual, but Hajime can’t help himself. Apart from this being his first Valentine’s ‘chocolate’, he has an odd feeling that doesn’t hint at any of those stupid bugs fluttering around your stomach he’s heard people talking about. This person seems to know him well enough, and yet felt the need to leave no clear clue of identity behind. There’s even the guess that Hajime wouldn’t like ‘that kinda thing’, which has his mind blank as to what it would refer to. 

In any case it’s someone who watches his matches, so maybe that’s something to look out for next time he plays?

As he ignores Futa’s comment, Hajime makes his way to the staircase, wishing to forget about what he’s holding in his hands, when a presence behind him requests his attention. Hajime rolls his eyes before the first word is spoken, already noticing the girls around him swoon and sway. Getting away is no use, however, and he feels Oikawa’s hand on his arm making him turn around.

“What is thaaat!?” Oikawa’s voice chants, backed up by a chorus of squeaks and other nonsense Hajime would rather not deal with right now. The big brown, good-for-nothing eyes look at Hajime’s hands, and he backs away even more as to hide what he’s holding. 

“None of your business, either.” He mumbles, putting his ‘gifts’ away as quickly as possible. 

For once he’s glad Oikawa’s fan club is around. They distract Oikawa with a huge amount of self-made chocolate, and Hajime backs away to watch from afar. There’s red and pink wraps, neat bows, silly cards, tin foil. The chocolates have designs, writing, even freaking volleyballs painted on them. It looks so much more thought-through and cared for than what Hajime has in his bag. 

On his way to class, he takes another look at the wrapped cookies; a grand total of six that hadn’t burned, it seems. All the way to his seat, there’s so much of everything he comes to dislike even more of before. His ears hurt from the girlish (and boyish) squirming, and a jolt of jealousy he hadn’t known before runs down to his gut. He’s used to freaking Oikawa getting Valentine’s gifts by the dozens before lunch. It seems such an idiotic thing to feel so green about.

Getting his book and notes for the first class out, Hajime ignores what goes on around him. Futa must be right. No one actually tried to confess to Hajime, and it was just some stupid joke to see how he’d react. As soon as lunch starts, he’ll get rid of the note, and probably trash the cookies along with them. If the person doesn’t have the guts to meet him head on, they’re not worth it anyway.

*~*~*

“Uh, Iwaizumi?”

Hanamaki’s voice reminds him of Futa. That low hum, questioning, full of wonder. Hajime turns around to him, and sees Matsukawa standing there too. Two faces so much alike in this every instant, each of them eying him, then the locker behind him.

“What?” He asks, one brow lowering in question. Whenever Hanamaki has this minor laughter at the end, it did not bode well. This much Hajime has learned in the past year, which is almost over, when he came to Aobajousai.

“Didn’t you overlook something?” Matsukawa adds in, and Hanamaki nods his chin to the spot behind Hajime, to make sure he gets it. Hajime turns around, taller and stronger than he had been a year before, and still not prepared for this day. At least now he had two more friends who would make fun of February the 14th. Nonetheless, as Hajime’s head must have been in the clouds, something was waiting for him where his shoes were now standing. He opens the wooden frame again, and his eyes widen at the little pile.

“Someone’s popular.” Matsukawa grins, he and Hanamaki watching Hajime as he takes out a handful of wrapped gifts. Red and pink, patterns of hearts and cupids, white bows and tiny cards. It’s as if Hajime stepped into Oikawa’s shoes this morning and swapped lives or some shit. 

“You missed one.” Hanamaki points out. Hajime looks back, and finds the oddest thing; one package is bigger than the rest, and it’s a blue plastic wrap. Whatever is inside sticks out at odd angles against the paper, and instead of a neatly wrapped bow, plastic tape holds together Christmas-like glitter ribbons. It stands out against the other seven little things Hajime holds against his chest. 

“That one seems… fun. Who’d even pick blue?” Matsukawa grins, leaning over Hajime’s bounty.

Hanamaki laughs, trying to make his friend back off a little. “Eh, isn’t it your favourite colour, Iwaizumi?”

“Tch, not that I know off.” Hajime grunts, looking at it again. It’s actually the same hue as the Kitagawa Daiichi uniform’s blue, now that he thinks of it. A girl whose shoe locker is near Hajime’s turns to him.

“There was someone here this morning… I can’t be sure, but he looked super nervous.”

“He?” Hajime asks, brow rising. The girl nods. 

“He looked around for your name, I think, and ran away once he put that,” she points to the blue monster and all its odd ends sticking out. “inside your shoe locker. Maybe he delivered it for his sibling?’ 

Neither of them knows, and Hajime is quite glad when the girl walks away from them. He feels heat burn up in his neck, a strange feeling curling in the insides of his gut. Who would sneak in super early and then run off like that!? 

To distract himself, he turns to Matsukawa and Hanamaki, holding out the red and pink wrapped gifts currently in the curve of his other arm. “Here, help me out and take some of these.” 

Both of them step back, half laughing, shaking their heads. “What, they’re yours! Some people must have worked hard on those.” Hanamaki holds his hands up in protest, while Matsukawa looks around. He’s the tallest of the three, and Hajime always understood why he’d become middle blocker in their first year here. 

“They might be standing close by to watch your reaction, too.” 

“Yeah, that’s why. I don’t like this whole anonymous bullshit. Someone pulled a prank on me last year, too. I don’t care about this stuff.” Hajime says, and they walk to the first year hallway. He has to physically push ⅓ of the chocolates into Hanamaki’s and Matsukawa’s hands, and as neither had gotten much this year, they end up taking it and thanking him. For some weird, curious reason, Hajime wants to keep the blue-wrapped piece. 

All three of them walk past and ignore Oikawa surrounded by his ring of fans (including third years), and the truckload of Valentine’s gifts he receives this year. Hajime is used to it, knows he will get at least half of those to bring to his mom because Oikawa’s mother doesn’t want to spend another year bringing Oikawa to the hospital because he overate on chocolate. On top of that, Oikawa has been watching out for a healthy diet, too. They here another girl joining in, carrying a whole basket full of chocolates. Hanamaki’s grin matches Matsukawa’s lazy, wicked eyes. They look to the pieces the girls put into Oikawa’s hands, making him try at least one bite the whole time. 

“Someone is going to be broke as hell next month.” Hanamaki snickers, as if remembering the jump serve ball to his head last practice.

“Yep. White Day ain’t gonna be pretty for Oikawa, at all.” Matsukawa notes in this laidback tone he has. Hajime joins in laughing, feeling glad he found two more likeminded people who would tease Oikawa whenever there was a chance. 

 

And there’s no stopping during lunch time. It’s Oikawa’s own fault, seriously. He brings all the chocolates on top of the roof and boasts. Matsukawa and Hanamaki don’t touch the huge amount of chocolate, as they have already eaten half of Hajime’s. The latter still has the odd one in his bag. As much as his fingers ache to read the note, he doesn’t feel like embarrassing himself in front of Oikawa and the other two. 

 

It isn’t until much later, before practice starts, that Hajime finds a quiet moment alone. There is only one place that can give him that private comfort outside of his own bedroom; Hajime sits on the lid of the toilet seat, ripping away at the tape that holds the mysterious gift together. Some time goes by before he can unwrap it, and within he finds the same page as last year, a hastily propped ball of writing on top of… chocolate balls? They look like balls, but distorted as if they were filled with nuts or some other weird shit. Hajime’s brows knit together, and he puts the unwrapped piece including the chocolates on his thigh.

Unfolding the piece of paper, he readies himself for what kind of message him awaits this year. Within a second, Hajime recognizes the handwriting; it’s the exact same as last year’s. 

**To Iwaizumi-san,  
** **As you didn’t like the cookies, I chose to go traditional and give you actual Valentine’s chocolates. I would have liked to stick around and talk to you, but we’re not at the same school anymore, and I had to go back. Right now I am working hard to get where you are, as I want to play with you again. Also, I miss you.  
**Hopefully you can win next time against Shiratorizawa.****

Hajime leans back against the wall behind him, shell-shocked. Curiosity and anticipation all turn into a cold, dark mess in the pit of his stomach. The note holds a lot more information than the previous one, and Hajime can imagine that the added distance and having graduated from Kita-ichi gave his admirer the push to allude more to who he is.

A ‘he’. Hajime looks back down to the note again and checks to see if there if there might be a mistake, but finds none. It clearly states ‘play with you again’. Racking his brain, he goes through all the players of last year, but there had been a lot of guys. This one however had been in the team, could have stood right next to Hajime on the court, and _never_ said a thing or had given off signals!

Anger curls Hajime’s hand into a wrist, crumpling the note. He doesn’t feel disgusted or weirded out, but cheated. Cheated out of something he could have experienced when he was fifteen. 

For years, he had watched Oikawa. Witnessing him and his girlfriends, his break ups, his boasting, his experiences. As much airs as the guy had, he’d always come to Hajime and talked things over, feeling insecure in the beginning about getting attention from girls and actually going out with them. All the time, Hajime had known why no one had shown much interest in him; standing next to Oikawa, pretty boy, who would have?

At the same time, Hajime had concluded that it must be something inside of himself, too. He’d never shown much interest in girls, and it had been during that third year that he wondered if he was just different. Apart from feeling awkward when girls were nearby or giving him attention, Hajime never felt truly at ease seeing himself with a girlfriend. The mere thought of it could set off a chain of reactions in his body, and he’s probably wired in a way so that it just doesn’t appeal to him. For the longest time, he believed that there must be some sort of gate opening, and epiphany, which would make it all easy and understandable. Maybe another way to romance, to happiness, to those idiotic but wantable feelings. Months later, Hajime would ask himself if maybe he was into guys, and if he could somehow manage to test it out without weirding people the fuck out.

This could have been it. A chance. Someone had liked him, still likes him now enough to come all the way from Kita-ichi and drop off a note. Whoever it was would probably be a second or even third year now. It has Hajime wondering if this guy would also come to Aobajousai, and if Hajime would be able to pick him out this time, knowing what he knows now.

A small hope lights up in his chest.

*~*~*

The following year, for the first time ever, Hajime looks forward to February the 14th. It’s bad enough to make him wake up an hour earlier than usual, and heading to school with a half hour to spare before club activities start. Hajime is a man on a mission; he has’t told anyone about it, and kept it a tight secret from Oikawa. Without anyone near to see him, Hajime hides behind a bush, currently staking out the school’s main entrance. 

For the past two years, someone has given him a treat, hiding behind a nameless and faceless identity, and afraid to out himself for fear of repercussions. It was more than simple curiosity which drove Hajime here. Another first has become an invisible force in his heart; apart from the unimaginable (eagerly awaiting Valentine’s day), Hajime was now sure of another, groundbreaking thing. He was into guys, though he had found no one at Aobajousai attractive enough to try it. 

It wasn’t exactly fear holding back, but a common sense not to mess things up. He’s become a regular in the Spring high, and after facing off with many opponents in the Miyagi area, he’d seen enough guys which left him not questioning his sexuality, but making it crystal clear. 

If the guy who had a crush on him for a few years would show up, and look even half decent… Hajime would first reprimand him for being a weak wuss, then maybe talk things out, and if even a spark of emotion would settle in his heart… he hadn’t thought that much though, but he’d come up with something for sure! Hiding behind the bushes became a painful thing for his thighs, which had a horrible muscle ache from yesterday’s receiving drills. When it become too much, and as there’s no one here to see or judge him, he lets his knees fall down into the soil, to worry about the dirt later. 

Ten minutes have gone by since he came to school, and no one but teachers and the dean had entered so far. Class presidents and other young athletes made their way into school, and to Hajime’s great dismay, he saw Oikawa here too early as well. When more and more people began to show up , as well as the volleyball club, Hajime sighs, giving up. He makes his way to the front entrance and acts as if everything is normal and fine. He ignores his shoe locker, as he won’t need indoor shoes, and makes his way directly to the gymnasium to train.

 

One hour later, he finds a big, blue wrapped ball of a single chocolate piece on top of his desk. 

Ignoring the well-meant, but teasing whistles of Matsukawa and Hanamaki, Hajime takes the large thing away from all the curious onlookers, and brings it to the rooftop. Here, in peace, he eagerly unwraps it. Behind him, laughter erupts loud and unapologetic, and Hajime can’t even look around and tell the three assholes to knock it off. His eyes are boring into the abomination of what probably should have been a round, ball-like creation.

“That is the craziest shit ever.” Hanamaki says as he squats down right of Hajime, glancing to big non-ball of chocolate. His finger pushes it, watching it fall to another spike at the bottom. Matsukawa walks around both of them, hands in his pockets and his eyes even rounder. 

“Those spikes… it must be a hint to your thorn-y personality huh, Iwaizumi?” Matsukawa can hardly speak his words are so filled with mirth, barely able to hold it in. Hanamaki doesn’t even try; he laughs out loud, hand in front of his face. At last, Oikawa joins them, taking the spot to Hajime’s left.

“Someone must really dislike you, for giving you the most horrendous valentines, each and every year.” 

“Shut up, Asskawa.” Hajime blinks to the ball, wondering if it at least tastes good. He cannot contemplate it too much, as he has to snatch the note attached to the wrap away from a nosy Oikawa. Hajime kicks his side and knocks him over for good measure. Only then does Matsukawa look away from the weird gift, eying Oikawa who lies on his side.

“You should learn not to touch other people’s things.” This morning, Oikawa had tried to steal Matsukawa’s Valentine’s chocolate as well. Even when Matsukawa keeps his voice level, Hajime can hear the sympathetic tone in it.

Keeping his own note safe, Hajime watches Hanamaki pick at a line which seems to go all around the non-ball of massive chocolate.

“Hey, I wonder if something is being kept inside?” 

“Yeah, a small monster, maybe.” Matsukawa offers, catapulting him and Hanamaki to discuss what horrors would await Hajime if he cracks it open. Being more a doer than a talker, Hajime pushes his blunt nails in the seam-line, finding it easy to break the two halves apart. For a few silent seconds, they all look to the numerous chocolate pieces which were inside. Oikawa makes a sound as if aliens had appeared, Matsukawa laughs behind his hand, and Hanamaki straight up falls backwards, holding his stomach laughing.

Matsukawa is the first to speak.

“Those are the most effing ugliest volleyball look-a-like homemade pieces I have ever seen.” 

Hajime takes one of the flat pieces and holds it in front of his face. If Matsukawa wouldn’t have said anything, Hajime would have never guessed that what he holds would have to look like a volleyball. The lines are all squiggly, the form is flatter than a pancake, and there’s absolutely no shape to indicate the likeness at all. On top of it, Oikawa takes one half of the non-ball and holds it up.

“Oh my god. This was supposed to be a volleyball too. Look.” Oikawa holds in over Hajime’s head, who inspects the lines. Some aren’t even there, but they can read the ‘mikasa’ brand just fine. Hamaki smacks his hand on Hajime’s shoulders, and Matsukawa hopes that maybe one day, Hajime won’t receive a freaking mess as a gift. Oikawa lingers, not even trying to get a piece to bite. 

“Who is it from?” He asks, looking to where the note sticks out of Hajime’s blazer pocket.

“I won’t read it when you here, okay? Just. Go. Leave me alone.” The words lack the heat, and it sounds more like a request. Oikawa sighs, says something about Hajime’s shyness, and then goes to the door.

“Don’t be late to practice, even if your love life finally lifts off!”

“I will lift you off this roof, Trashkawa!” Hajime turns around to yell, only to find a tongue stuck out to him and the peace sign-making fingers lining around the winking eye. He feels like throwing things, but the only missile nearby is his Valentine’s chocolate. Although it looks like absolute shit, it’s still _his_ Valentine’s chocolate, and he cherishes it. Sighing to himself and calming his nerves, he folds open the note, and starts reading.

**To Iwaizumi-san,  
I am not cut out to make chocolate. This year was full of revelations, and I have found out that I am not cut out for many things, even in volleyball. For the first and the worst time, I couldn’t handle the ball as well as my hands should have. My sincerest apologies that this reflects in the chocolates of this year. I tried to lessen the sweetness, at least, so I hope they’re edible and of good taste. The amount is probably too much for a healthy athlete like yourself, so please consider sharing this with a whole bunch of people.**

**Lastly, this is a sort of goodbye.  
** **As much as I miss you, and had wished to come to Aobajousai and play with you once more… it became impossible to follow where you are. We will probably play against each other in the coming year. As such, I shouldn’t make another foolish attempt to confess to you, or send any sorts of gifts, as they may be mistaken for bribes or other nonsense.  
**Best wishes****

At the end of the message, Hajime felt a deja-vu. He turned the paper, looking for a name, a number, a hint. Reading it over and over again, he wondered if he’d be smart enough to get out any sort of alluding information. There was nothing. A whole lot of freaking nothing. Emptiness started to reign from his dry throat to the his numb toes. His eyes gaze over the word ‘goodbye’, and something wet starts to prickle his eyes. 

There had been the slimmest chance. A streak of hope. Hajime felt so close to a goal, as if after a long wait he would finally would spike the scoring hit. Whatever happened to this guy must have been bad. Hajime couldn’t begin to understand what could occur in one's life, especially if, for years, you had had your eyes on someone. And then suddenly decide it’s not worth the try; not even worth coming to the same school.

This was his, whoever this ‘he’ could be, last. His masterpiece. Messed up and prickly and imperfect. The end of something Hajime never had, never started, never would be by the sound of the letter. 

“Shit.” Hajime hisses, feeling cold inside. This person had already made up his mind, and wouldn’t come to Aobajousai. Because it’s impossible? Why, because Hajime was here, and this… this guy thought there was no way to be near him again?

Lost, lonely, and utterly done, Hajime lets the piece of paper go, watching it float on air for as long as it takes until it covers one of the chocolate halves. Miserable, he then takes one of the chocolates and pops them into his mouth. Ice cream and chocolates, among other sweets, were seen as a big help when in emotional trouble. Hajime doesn’t believe it to be true, but gives it a try nevertheless. Whoever this is, he really knows Hajime, and the chocolate isn’t sweet at all.

It’s fucking bitter.

*~*~*

It takes some days to heal and be normal again, and when Hajime is, he takes the piece of writing with him to school. He couldn’t throw it away, not when there was a slim, fighting chance to research who this guy was. 

During lunch at the end of the week, Hajime shoves the paper under Oikawa’s nose. His care for its contents and that it means Oikawa would know Hajime’s years-long admirer was a boy didn’t matter to him anymore. By any means necessary, he’d find out who this kid is.

“Recognize this handwriting?” Hajime asks, and it sounds as if he’s accusing Oikawa of pranking him. Oikawa takes him too seriously for a second and wants to retort, but then focuses on the letter. He reads it through carefully, his face changing visibly at the necessary passages. Oikawa’s eyes sometimes flicker to Hajime, before he reads on, then sighs and reads again.

“It’s some time ago… and I am not sure.” Oikawa’s lips purse, and he puts the paper flat on his desk, scanning it once more. 

“You have a hunch?” Hajime doesn’t let go, crossing his arms on top of his chest. 

“I wouldn’t let you go and run some poor dude at Kita-ichi over just on a hunch, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa concludes, then pushes the letter away from him and toward Hajime. “To be sure, you should show this to Kindaichi. What I am sure of is that he will come to Aobajousai. He might be of more help than I am, as he could have seen this writing more recently than I have.” 

Hajime takes the paper back and folds it, looking at the blank spaces hiding away all the bitterness and desperation. He doesn’t look at Oikawa, unable to know what could break him apart when he’s this close to the edge.

“And you’re… sure you can’t tell..?”

“I wish I could tell you, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says, sighing through his nose. “Anyway, I think there’s something else we should talk about, isn’t there?”

Staring to his left, Hajime faces the wall. A physical wall which is as real and as impossible to climb in his head. He’d calculated the odds of having to talk to Oikawa about this, and has taken his chances. However, carrying this load with him wasn’t healthy, and he might as well open up to someone.

“That’s what best friends are for, so I’ve heard.” Hajime whispers lowly, feeling his throat thicken.

“You have heard right.” Oikawa smiles, audible, punching his fist lightly into Hajime’s hard stomach. “Bring your leftover, ugly-ass volleyball chocolates to my place after practice, and we’ll talk.” 

*~*~*

It’s not Valentine’s day, but Hajime feels just as nervous. For two months, he had been formulating plans, written up pros and cons of each, then ripping his whole ideas apart without another consideration. Telling Oikawa about him being gay, and later having the same chat with Hanamaki and Matsukawa, hadn’t been as nerve-wrecking as the thought to have to tell Kindaichi, too. One of the ideas Hajime had was to rip the letter apart and show non-important bits to his kouhai, or make a copy and cross out the hot items with black marker.

In the end, nothing mattered, as Oikawa made it a short and painless process. He stole Hajime’s letter before a second thought of putting it back into his bag occurred in Hajime’s mind. Without stopping, Oikawa had then gone off to see Kindaichi, cornering him after the first practice back together at Aobajousai.

“Don’t think, just take a quick look, Kindaichi-kun. The _quickest_ look, alright?” 

“U-uh, yeah?” Kindaichi stammers, then watches as Oikawa unfolds a piece of paper. Hajime stands a few feet away from them, calm as the hour before the storm. His crossed arms form a barrier of emotional self-defense, against whatever outcome this may bring.

“Recognize this?” Oikawa asks, taking his hands holding the letter back before Kindaichi can read too much. It doesn’t seem like he needs to see more though. 

Kindaichi’s face changes into a sour distortion of himself, and his eyes became slits. His words are a low rumbling growl, barely managing to make it over his lips. “I do. I recognize that terrorizing handwriting from anywhere. Had to memorize his signs, didn’t I?”

Hajime’s arms fall to the side, lifeless. His head clears, and a single image comes up instead. The picture of a young boy, greedy to learn, a pure genius talent. Dark blue eyes which would shimmer in untouchable happiness whenever setting a ball. Hajime hasn’t forgotten the voice, which rings his name like a bell in his mind. The whole sound and feel of the notes also suit this kid like else nothing could. ‘I couldn’t handle the ball as well as my hands should have’, how could he have been so blind and not know it sooner!?

The fog of the past clears, too. Every time Hajime served, his voice was rooting the loudest. Whenever Hajime needed something, he had been most eager to bring it to him. And above all, whenever Hajime needed a fast set, this kid was the only one who could make it happen, faster than lightning, but much more silent. 

Hajime’s mouth hangs open, and a single name crosses his lips, earning a double ‘Tch’ from both Oikawa and Kindaichi.

“Kage.. yama?”

*~*~*

It’s a mere hour before their matches start, but Hajime finds time for this. He waits near the vending machine closest to were Karasuno sits, and keeps an eye on the hallway. He’s a black panther, a hunter waiting for his prey. After years of pain, worrying, sorrow, loneliness, and utter questioning of himself and the universe, Hajime feels peace at long last. As if the universe can wait, as if everything will fall into place. It would have been too easy to strike when they had their first practice match back at Aobajousai, but Hajime liked fighting on equal ground. Here, either of them could turn away without causing a ruckus, only to meet during the first official match between Aobajousai and Karasuno.

Kageyama may have known him inside and out, but Hajime knew a few things, too. One of them proves to be the ticket to end this madness. As of now, two tall kids make way from the vending machine, revealing a single kid, dressed in black and a hint of orange, as he stands before it in utter pain. Kageyama moves forward, eyeing the vending machine as if it were the enemy, the stern face hardening up even more when having to make the hard decision between strawberry milk and yogurt drink. 

When his two fingers push two buttons at the same time to make a last minute decision, Hajime finds his opening, and swaggers forward.

“Ouh, Kageyama.” He greets, watching Kageyama tense up as he bows to collect his drink. Wide blue eyes soften at his sight, then he replies to the greeting with a bow. Facing Hajime’s stony expression, Kageyama’s eyes change, worry glazing over the dark blue.

Not blinking, not melting under that gaze, Hajime takes out the scrap of paper, folds it open, and brings Kageyama’s own words under his nose, one question floating between them, before Hajime asks it out loud. 

“This yours?” 

Careful, lips wobbling under pressure, Kageyama eyes his own handwriting before he considers answering. He gulps, reading his own words over, his lips becoming a tight, tense line. At long last, he closes his eyes in defeat, then nods.

“Yes, Iwaizumi-san.”

“And all the others, too.”

It’s a statement, not a question, but Kageyama answers all the same. “Of course.”

“Must have been hard to be this afraid and unable to voice your feelings.” Hajime offers, unable to let his heart be ice cold when he sees Kageyama’s tense shoulders and balled fists. He’s earnest, and while people may believe Kageyama hides his everything behind a wall, he’s so sincere in showing his feelings openly, that it almost breaks Hajime’s set resolve.

Almost, but not enough.

“Still, I am not in the mood of forgiving you for making me wait all this time, Kageyama.” 

“Iwaizumi-san, I-”

“Listen, brat.” Hajime points his finger forward, tipping into Kageyama’s chest. “I’m expecting Valentine’s day chocolates next year as well, alright? And deliver them to me personally. Only then will I consider repaying you on White day.”

Blinking eyes, open mouth, and Kageyama leaning back are what nearly take Hajime down. But he is a rock, rolling down a hill, and he can’t stop. “Don’t even try cheating and giving me a birthday present, you understand. You made me wait, and now you’ll do the honours.” 

“But, Iwaizumi-san,”

There’s no one here, and even if there would have been, Hajime wouldn’t care. A hand brushes over Kageyama’s neck, and Hajime leans in close. Their lips brush for a few seconds, and Hajime’s lids fall shut as to not to see Kageyama’s reactions, which could have been a catastrophe to his heart. He keeps them unopened when he whispers on Kageyama’s wet, sputtering lips.

“Next year, or you have to beat me first.” Hajime doesn’t smile when he turns around, about to walk back where the Aobajousai team is. He waves off Kageyama’s protest in a small ‘see you later on the court’, accepting the challenge his kouhai _will_ try extra hard to win today. And as much as he cannot hope for it, Hajime still finds himself licking his lips in anticipation.

After all, it would be bittersweet, one way or the other.


End file.
